A Life Less Complicated
by four.point.O- for a day
Summary: Post Hogwarts. After a brutal murder outside of Hogwarts, Hermione is forced to investigate with the one person she'd promised herself never to see again. Harry. H/Hr Eventually.


"What do you mean I'm 'afraid of commitment?' I'm a very committed and loyal person, and you know that!" She finished her drink to hide the brief look of doubt that flitted across her face. He smirked. The local muggle pub was preparing for the dinner crowd. People were settling into shepherd's pie and other favorite menu items all around them. The tele over the bar featured the evening news. It droned on in the background like any normal Thursday night.

"Loyalty isn't necessarily commitment." He pushed. He hadn't invited her out for a drink just to tip toe around the topic, and he wasn't about to give up now. So what if he was being crass? Polite just wasn't his thing, as she was well aware of.

"Oh really, like you know so much about either of those." She said before thinking. She could feel the warmth of the drinks begin to rise up to the collar of her fine light blue cashmere sweater. She felt her usual guard slipping down. The words tasted sour as they left her mouth.

She wondered if he was asking these questions because he was drunk, or cruel. Either way, once they started down this road she knew no rock would be left unturned. He was very good at what he did. As they continued to work together she learned more about him. To her dismay, it wasn't all disappointing.

She looked up from her glass. His cool eyes seemed icy for a second, before warming up to the now familiar gray color. Did she just feel a flutter in the pit of her stomach? She wished she had another drink to help distract her from the man in front of her. Why had she even agreed to this? She couldn't remember when their conversation had switched over from work to their personal lives. More over, specifically hers.

"Well, I'm not claiming to be an expert myself, but I have some experiences." He said lightly enough, although the implications were anything but.

She felt her curiosity rising, but didn't want to fall for the bait. She forced her mind onto something that could change this line of conversation, asking herself for the hundredth time why she was even there.

Her slow response was enough to let him know he was on to something. Should he continue to pry? He reveled in the satisfaction of knowing that he could make her hair stand on end. Although, to anyone else here, it probably looked that way most of the time. She actually could be quite stunning, if she cared enough to try. Her complexion was clear and natural. Her eyes were bright and inquisitive, or sharp and steely, as he often saw. Her hair, although wild at times, could be considered full of wave and body. Compared to the beauties he often shared drinks with, she wasn't that far off. However, it was her mind that made her most unusual.

"Listen Draco, oh excuse me my phone.." She lifted her glowing cell phone from her purse and pointed toward the front door. "I have to take this." She smiled. Relief eased her tensed stomach as she slipped off of the seat and began to grab her coat. She wanted to end their conversation without revealing anything more personal when the phone buzz was more than a welcome distraction. Her obvious relief unsettled him, that and the fact she hadn't bothered to look at the caller ID on the front of the screen.

"I hope you're not trying to blow me off with that pathetic muggle ploy? You know the one where you have to leave because of an family emergency, or something ridiculous to that extent." He sneered and then realizing he sounded childish finished the rest of his drink in one swallow. She watched him for a second. He knew a family phone call was out of the question. He stood up quickly. The chair made an obnoxious sound and a few people enjoying an early dinner nearby looked over. He grabbed his coat as well.

"No, really that's not it at all, it's just I need to take this call. Shit, well I have to call them back! It shouldn't be anything too serious, although I guess you can't be too sure until you answer." She finished lamely. She was struggling to get her coat on while he was already laying some money on their table. She felt stupid and resented the drinks.

"Listen Grang- Hermione, we'll finish our drink some other time. I have somewhere that I need to be as well. You're not the only one with responsibilities outside the office. I'll see you tomorrow." He grabbed his briefcase from the floor and headed out of the pub.

"Okay..." She watched him turn left outside the door and past the rather large window storefront of the pub. Had she insulted him in some way? He was the one who was very close to upsetting her. Actually, he was deliberately trying to push her buttons. Trying to get a rise out of her, or see where she would go with this obviously uncomfortable conversation. She decided someone really needed to kick that guy's bloody arse. Slightly miffed herself, she quietly pushed her chair in and headed for the door.

She pushed her way through the door and out onto the cold street. The sun had nearly finished setting, and whatever warmth the daylight provided was gone with it. The cold also seemed to chase local patrons indoors. They were settling down to cook warm home-made dinners and watch their favorite programs on the tele.

The street was quiet. She shivered. The chill in the air was helping her nerves calm and senses sober. Hermione flipped open her phone and paged down the menu to Missed Calls.

In electric blue it read, _1Missed Call from H.J. Potter_.


End file.
